


you won't go lonely (it'll all be better in the morning)

by autumnchills



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Buck Centric, Coda, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s03e15 Coda, Getting Together, Hurt Eddie Diaz, Love Confessions, M/M, Not Beta Read, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, an extreme overuse of conjunctions, eddie begins, unless you count grammarly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-02-23 14:02:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23845849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autumnchills/pseuds/autumnchills
Summary: He wanted to yell that Eddie was alive even though everyone already knew. He wanted to yell “I told you so!” in the faces of everyone whose words ever dared to lean in the direction of doubt.He wanted to yell into the rain and thunder and lightning and thank whatever gods existed that they’d brought Eddie back to them— to him.But Eddie was gone before he had the chance to say or do anything, the vehicle leaving a trail through the thin layer of mud and disappearing into the night.— In the aftermath of the call, Buck is uncharacteristically quiet. It just takes a little push to get him where he needs to be and say what he needs to say.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 28
Kudos: 525





	you won't go lonely (it'll all be better in the morning)

**Author's Note:**

> For your consideration, my mood music: [Mysterium - Hammock](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XDh1pPf6bg8) and my title inspiration: [After Rain - Dermot Kennedy](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IaeKCIBuHlI)

At the end of the day— in the aftermath of it all— Buck can’t speak. 

Buck had been hopeful at first. Eddie may have acted recklessly, but he wasn’t stupid. Every rescue became a mission, an attribute he carried with him from his military days. It’s why he followed orders with ease and had a bit more motivation to get in, get the job done, then get out. And when the job couldn’t get done, it was just a tiny bit easier for the man to let go.

Which was why Buck knew that Eddie knew what he was doing. He knew that Eddie knew something they didn’t, and that’s why he’d cut the line. 

But it didn’t stop Buck from feeling like someone had pulled a rug out from under him when all the weight on the line had disappeared and it came up severed. 

_ “He cut the damn line!” _

Hen’s words clanged in his ears and down to his chest— like the bass of music so loud it felt like it could overpower the beat of his own heart. 

From that moment on, anxiety had started creeping in. There were too many things that could go wrong, and Buck had been praying they wouldn’t.

And then they did.

The realization that the hole had collapsed on itself took away his breath, and Buck scrambled for the dirt, trying to rip open the earth with his bare hands. 

He felt like all hope was lost, and it took Bobby ripping him away from the ground for him to breathe again. His desperate sobs wracked through his body, but he had to reel it in because it wasn’t over yet— couldn’t be. 

So, they’d gathered and tried to find workarounds so they could get to him. But he could see the look on everyone’s faces, the one that said that none of them thought Eddie could have survived that.

Well, fuck them, Buck thought. 

Then he saw the same look on his teams’ faces. 

And the way they all spoke about searching for him… It was a solid plan, but their voices carried a tone as if they were planning a recovery rather than a rescue, and he could feel himself slipping from determination into something like solemn acceptance.

Except that Buck knew Eddie was a fighter, and Buck had promised to have Eddie’s back.

Evan Buckley wouldn’t give up hope that Eddie Diaz was alive until it could be physically proven otherwise.

So, when Eddie walked up to their rescue teams, Buck was relieved, to put it simply. And when he saw him stumbling, Buck moved fast to grab him with his own two hands, as if it was just as much for him to believe that Eddie was really there as it was to support the weakened man. 

Buck was ready to carry him out of there himself if he needed to, but someone was on Eddie’s other side, so he just held on to whatever he could. 

One hand latched onto Eddie’s arm and his friend’s hand found his other, and they both squeezed tight with whatever they had. Buck was a strong man, but never had something felt so heavy. Eddie’s hand trembled with the weight of his exhaustion and fears, and Buck would hold on forever if it meant that Eddie would continue to be okay. 

He smiled out of hysterical relief yet fought the urge to cry. 

And then Eddie made a remark about a big date on Friday. 

_ Christopher _ . 

Eddie had been thinking of Christopher. 

It both warmed his heart and terrified him all at once. Christopher on his mind like that could only mean that he’d been low. And Buck didn’t mean low like so far below the earth that even their radios couldn’t reach him, he meant so low that he’d  _ almost _ given up. He’d had to find a reason to hold on and push forward. 

There was so much Buck wanted to say but couldn’t, not with Bobby sounding off orders in five different directions and Hen and Chimney coaxing Eddie out of his grip to sit on the back of the ambulance. 

They stripped him of the harness that had long since dug into sore muscles. 

He wanted to yell that Eddie was alive even though everyone already knew. He wanted to yell “I told you so!” in the faces of everyone whose words ever dared to lean in the direction of doubt.

He wanted to yell into the rain and thunder and lightning and thank whatever gods existed that they’d brought Eddie back to them— to  _ him _ . 

Buck wanted to hold Eddie’s face in his hands and whisper to him that he was going to be okay and relish in the delight that he’d live to see another day. He wanted to hug warmth into Eddie’s body and kiss away the tears that he undoubtedly had yet to shed. 

They helped Eddie onto the stretcher and loaded him into the ambulance. 

Exhaustion would hit Eddie like a truck, and only after knowing that he’s okay and in safe hands would he let himself go, and Buck wanted to catch him like his family had caught him all those months ago in Santa Monica.

But Eddie was gone before he had the chance to say or do anything, the vehicle leaving a trail through the thin layer of mud and disappearing into the night. 

What would he have said, anyway? 

Would a simple,  _ Hey _ have sufficed? Or a  _ Glad you’re not dead _ ?

What did Buck say when the earth had literally caved in on his entire world?

Everything that Buck wanted to say balled up in his throat and lodged itself there, making it painful to even try and process what had almost been. 

So, Buck keeps his mouth shut. He fights back the urge to run after the ambulance and jump into the back. He swallows down the sobs ready to tear free from his chest, and it pains him physically to do so, but he does it because he has a job to finish. 

Before the Cap can find him, he takes a moment. Buck lets himself have this. 

He crouches and balances himself with one hand pressing into his own thigh and the other to the wet mud in an attempt to ground himself. 

There’s an ache in his shoulders and his heart feels ready to beat out of his chest, and he can’t shake the feeling of impending doom. 

A large hand clamps down on his shoulder after a minute, and he looks up at Bobby. He blinks through the light drizzle sprinkling down on his face. 

“You good?” Bobby asks him. 

Buck’s not sure he is. But he needs to be. 

He doesn’t trust himself to speak, afraid that when he does, he’ll say far more than he can afford to right now, far more than he deserves to because  _ this isn’t about him _ . So, he nods, and then Bobby jerks his head in a different direction with orders flying off his tongue before Buck’s even standing again. 

He hears them, and he’ll get to them right away, but for a second he tilts his head up and lets the rain run down his face. 

He can’t cry, so he lets the world bear that burden for now. It can cry for him. 

Everyone is exhausted— everything from their arms and legs to their eyes and ears feel like a deadweight— by the time they’re loaded up into the rigs and pulling out. His fingers and toes are cold, the rain having soaked through everything. Buck’s not even standing anymore, yet his legs still tremble. The job is done, but it feels like they’re still there. 

It’s how Buck felt after the tsunami. Standing in his apartment that night had felt surreal. He felt like he’d entered a different plane of existence entirely, and he wasn’t able to comprehend how he’d just been through all of that and then was suddenly at home and safe in his apartment. 

It makes Buck wonder how Eddie’s doing. It’s so late that Buck knows Eddie won’t let anyone call his family, and his emergency contact was sitting right here facing the rest of his shift. 

The thought of Eddie lying alone in a hospital bed made his heart ache so strongly that he had to throw the headset off to just  _ breathe _ , and he was thankful that the back of the truck was void of the rest of his team. They’d seen his breakdown. They didn’t need to see this, too. 

“—you holding up back there?” was what he caught as he put his headset back on. 

Bobby was looking back at him from the passenger seat as one of the other men from their station drove.

Buck nodded again, even though he hadn’t heard the whole question and wasn’t sure he was answering the right one at all. 

Bobby considered the response before nodding back. 

“Hen and Chimney are already back at the station. They’ve showered and are getting a meal ready. When we get back, I want you both to shower, eat, then rest. Unless something major happens, we got a bit of layover for us to all catch necessary rest.”

Buck smacks his hand twice to the roof of the truck in confirmation, and Bobby raises an eyebrow. He knows that soon enough the captain will question his silence, but he doesn’t seem to be at the point of pushing. 

“Aye aye, Cap,” the man in the front says. Buck’s not sure he even caught a glimpse of which of their fellow firefighters it is. 

Bobby speaks directly to Buck then. “I know today was tough, but we got a few more hours left before we can go home. Make sure you’re taking care of yourself.”

But who was taking care of Eddie?

Buck’s been here so many times before— pulling into the station on a dark night after a call that everyone knows will follow them home. The white lights of the station put everything into the open and it almost makes it a little harder to face. There’s mud caking everything from the trucks to their faces and Buck has to look away to keep himself from thinking of Eddie— Eddie who’d been covered in mud and whose face looked hollow and skin looked pale.

“Shower,” Bobby reminds him, not unkindly, before taking off for one himself. 

He strips away his turnout gear, then moves to the locker room. He moves on autopilot as he carefully removes his shield and name badge before unbuttoning his wet uniform. It falls to a heap that he’ll take care of later. 

Bobby’s already leaving the showers by the time Buck is making his way towards them. He didn’t realize how slow he’d been moving until now, but the older man doesn’t say anything as they pass each other. 

The water is warm, though it feels practically scalding against his cold, rain-worn skin. It takes a few minutes for him to get used to that before he cranks the heat higher and lets the warmth settle into his muscles and all the way through to his bones. 

He rinses his hair first, then the rest of his body. He makes sure that every physical reminder of the night is gone from his arms and shoulders. Mud had settled uncomfortably in his pants after the fall from tackling Bobby to the ground, so he rinses his thighs and calves next. 

The mud had seeped into his gloves when he dug at earth covering the hole, ready to move heaven and hell if it meant he could get Eddie out, so he scrubs at his hands until they’re raw.

Buck slaps his hand on the cold tile wall of the shower stall and tries to rid his hand of the feeling, the feeling of pulling away mud and rainwater only to face more. 

He smacks it again to try and rid his muscles of the memory and then again because the pain is easier to deal with than that. He presses his head to the tile of the stall as he catches his breath, and he watches as the murky water becomes clear.

He smacks his hand again, and the sound of the slap on the wet tile echoes through the room. He wants to feel anything but that stupid  _ mud _ — the mud that had been the most unnervingly malleable thing he’d ever touched. He wants something he can grasp at and hold. 

He wants Eddie. 

It’s not until there’s red decorating his knuckles that Buck realizes he’d punched the wall.

He feels foolish because the water runs down it as if nothing ever happened and he’s over here tearing at the seams.

He washes his body and hair quickly then and leaves before anyone decides to come and see what’s taking him so long.

He gets dressed fast to make up for the time he’s taken, throwing on his LAFD t-shirt and some black sweatpants. By the time he makes it up to the loft, food is being served. Some of the firefighters are resting on the couches having quiet conversations, no doubt tired from the call as well. 

Buck has to remind himself that he wasn’t the only one out there tonight— that he wasn’t the only one scared of losing Eddie. 

But Buck can’t help but feel like he’s the only one still scared. 

Why?

_ Why why why why why wh— _

“C’mon, Buckaroo,” Chimney calls him over to the table. “It’s a bit late, but dinner is served at last.”

“Remember,” Bobby says then, louder for everyone in the loft to hear, “eat up, then rest up. We haven’t been allowed much time. Hell, we’re pretty lucky I even swung us any time at all. Put it to good use.” 

There are some nods and soft responses.

“And good job out there tonight, everyone,” he adds. 

The seat next to Buck remains vacant through his meal— which he only manages to swallow because it’s been over twelve hours since his last— and then one by one the firefighters disappear to the bunks.

At one point, Chim moves to get up but stops as he sees that Buck isn’t following. Buck’s food is gone, but his tense shoulders haven’t so much as twitched since he finished eating. The normally chatty man hasn’t spoken once either.

_ “You know why they make us wear these uniforms, right?”  _ Athena’s voice echoes from his memories. 

It startles him so much that he jolts, and his eyes dart to the people around him.

Chim and Hen are across from him, and Bobby stands on the other side of the kitchen counter, frozen in his movement. They’re all watching him with weary eyes as if waiting for something to happen.

“You okay there, Buck?” Hen asks him.

_ “When we take the uniform off at the end of the day, it symbolizes letting go.” _

Buck shakes Athena’s voice from his head. Eddie isn’t dead. Eddie’s  _ alive _ .

He keeps telling himself that, yet the fact that he almost wasn’t keeps pushing forward to the front of his thoughts. He feels like he’s stuck in that moment that everything fell apart. Buck  _ wants _ to let go of it, but he’s not sure he can do that here. 

“Buck?” Chimney prompts him. 

“I—” Buck’s voice cracks on the word. He swallows past the dryness. 

“Buck,” Hen whispers gently. She reaches across the table to place her hand on his arm. “Eddie is okay. What’s going on in that big head of yours?”

Buck’s hand clenches around a mug he didn’t realize he was holding. Chimney’s eyes dart to it, squinting at bruised knuckles, and Buck releases it to hide his hand under the table. 

He takes a steadying breath.

“I’m honestly feeling so many things that—” Buck cuts himself off and brings one hand to his face. “I don’t know where to start.”

“Adrenaline crash?” Chimney tries. 

Buck hums in acknowledgment, but it doesn’t sound right. 

“Emotional whiplash?” Bobby suggests.

“I guess,” Buck responds softly.

“Well, what’s one thing you’re feeling?” Chimney asks. “The first thing that comes to mind.”

“Scared,” Buck says easily. It’s the feeling that’s been dominating his thoughts and every aching breath. 

“Eddie’s o—”

“But he almost wasn’t,” Buck insists, his voice a little louder than before. “A– and it’s the thought that…” A cold realization settles over him. “It’s the thought that I could still lose him at any time. It’s just that the point in which I do was so close to being today. I– I don’t think I’ve ever been so terrified of losing someone before.”

He knows that’s saying a lot because no less than a couple weeks ago, his sister’s life had been on the line. 

_ But how do you lose someone you never had? _

It’s not until he sees Bobby's eyes widen and Chimney leaning back with a heavy exhale that Buck realizes he said that out loud.

“You like him,” Hen whispers. 

It’s not a question or even a realization. She’s stating a fact as if his feelings have existed since the dawn of time but haven’t been made a real and observable thing until now.

“Yeah,” he answers anyway. “If I’m being honest, it’s definitely more than  _ like _ .”

“Are you going to do anything about that?” Bobby questions.

Buck looks at the clock. “I need to tell him.” But there’s a long way until the end of his shift. 

Bobby glances down to his watch and shrugs his shoulders as if to say  _ what the hell _ . “I guess there’s no time like the present.”

So Buck goes to Eddie. He can’t stand the thought of him alone any longer than absolutely necessary. 

He sits at his bedside and holds his hand, silently listening to the doctor explain his injuries and the care he’ll need to receive in the next few days. He’ll be released tomorrow, so most of it is home care, and Buck acknowledges it all, already knowing it’ll be him at his best friend’s side. 

His best friend. 

It feels like a label that doesn’t quite live up to the nature of their relationship, but Buck refuses to try and say they’re more, not without Eddie awake to push past that stage with him. 

So, he waits. 

He sends messages to Eddie’s family to inform them of what’s going on. A call at this time will only worry them unnecessarily. He does call Abuela because she has Christopher, and she should know why Eddie isn’t going to show up in the morning to pick him up. 

They both agree that it’s best to wait until morning for Christopher to come to visit so that the boy’s sleep won’t be interrupted and he can see his father when the man is awake and doesn’t look so fragile. 

Then, together, they would take Eddie home. 

She thanks Buck for being with him before hanging up. 

At one point he falls asleep and jerks awake too suddenly with Eddie’s name dying on his lips in a gasp of fear. By then, Buck can see that the sky has turned from a heavy black filled with the orange glow of city lights to a dull and cloudy gray. 

The rain has come to an end.

And he waits some more. 

He has his head pillowed on his own bicep against the edge of the hospital bed’s mattress as he trails his finger across the inside of Eddie’s forearm, drawing shapes and imagining how to turn tonight into a bedtime story for Christopher. He imagines one that’s free of fear and pain and only highlights Eddie’s bravery and perseverance. He wonders if that’s what Eddie will do for Christopher’s show-and-tell on Friday. 

He does it for a while and zones out so much that he doesn’t even realize that Eddie’s awake until the man’s hand twitches open. He sits up and latches onto it, and Eddie’s fingers close around his. 

“Christopher?” Eddie whispers. His voice is raspy from disuse and his head is tilted toward Buck, but his eyes have yet to open. 

“With your grandma, still,” Buck answers. “I called and filled her in.” 

Eddie hums then opens one eye just enough to peek at him. “And you?” he questions.

Buck shakes his head and laughs wetly. “I’m fine,” he lies with ease.

“And I’m not in a hospital bed,” he quips back sarcastically.

Buck frowns at the reminder. 

Eddie opens both eyes now and studies him. “Turn that frown upside—”

“Don’t,” Buck interrupts him, harsher than he meant to. “For the love of God, please don’t joke right now.”

“Buck—”

“No,” Buck insists. 

Eddie sighs, and they remain in silence for a moment as Buck soaks in the man’s presence. Even in the darkest of times, Eddie shines. 

“There was a moment,” Buck eventually whispers, “when I thought I lost you. It… it looked bad up there, Eds. Thirty feet of mud and rocks caving in and we had no idea if—”

Buck cuts himself off this time. He tries to find the words, but again, there’s too much he wants to say. He doesn’t know what to say next— only knows what his endgame is but can’t yet find the way to get there. He doesn’t want to fuck this up. He  _ can’t _ . 

“It felt like all hope was lost for a minute,” he finishes. 

“You know, I felt pretty lost down there, too,” Eddie whispers back. His hand squeezes Buck’s a little tighter. “I was hurt, but I was alive, and I was yelling into the radio, but there was no one on the other end.

“But I pushed forward, searching for a way out. And even when I was sure I’d found one, I felt like giving up.”

Buck tries to ignore the pang in his chest, but he can’t help the tears that well in his eyes. 

“I’m not proud to admit that,” Eddie says softly. “My head was pounding and my muscles were so cold that I was finding it hard to make them do what I wanted them to. It would have been so… easy.”

Buck gets that. He knows firsthand how easy it is to want to give up because it’s easier— easier than the pain and suffering of fighting a fight that’s already gone on too long. 

“But I thought of Christopher,” Eddie says. 

That much, Buck knew. He’d known it the moment Eddie had mentioned his date on Friday. He was at his side the moment he made it. 

He was always at Eddie’s side and didn’t ever plan to be anywhere else. 

Eddie sighs, interrupting Buck’s thoughts, then smiles. “I thought of you, too.”

It takes a second for his brain to register the words. 

“I wasn’t dying, not at that moment, but when I dared to entertain the idea of giving up, Christopher came to mind. I thought of all these moments in our lives and about the family I’ve made here for us— with you guys. I don’t even know where the line between my memories of him versus you was. You  _ are _ mi familia, Buck.”

Eddie brings his hand up to Buck’s face then and wipes away the tears he didn’t realize had fallen. “Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but I really really like you, and I think you feel the same.”

A laugh bursts past Buck’s lips before he can stop it. Trust Eddie to say what he’s been struggling to. Trust Eddie to finally use his words the one time that Buck can’t. 

Buck nods. 

“Cat got your tongue?” Eddie teases.

“I think that once I sleep and decompress, I’ll have more to say,” Buck assures him. “But know that I do feel the same.” 

He feels  _ oh so much _ . He only hopes that these things he wants to say so badly don’t remain lodged in his throat forever.

They both know that things are going to change now. There’s a lot they’ll need to talk about like work, Christopher, what taking this step means for them both, but it’s something they can talk about later. 

He knows the fear of losing Eddie may never go away, not in their profession. There were too many odds and statistics that Buck knew from countless nights of research to know that it was just going to have to be something he would look past. 

Right now, Buck leans over and presses his forehead to Eddie’s and they smile ridiculously at each other. He silently thanks Eddie for not going where Buck couldn’t follow and coming back to him, and he promises to say everything one day— someday soon.

Right now, he’s content with knowing that Eddie’s not just his best friend. He’s  _ his _ . 

**Author's Note:**

> This is yet another fic that was completely unplanned but once I started writing, I couldn’t stop. Then I obsessed over how everything was phrased because I didn't want to just be rewriting other people's coda fics. I haven't read much (I don't think I read any actually) just to avoid accidentally copying someone.  
> Also, I don’t actually know where or who Christopher is with on Eddie’s overnight shifts so I took creative liberties. Sue me ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 
> 
> Please leave comments and kudos, as they always encourage me to write more! If you feel I missed some necessary story tags please let me know what it is I should add. If a tag feels inaccurate, please feel free to let me know about that as well.


End file.
